Radioactive
by ZamShazam1995
Summary: So Jason Todd and Dick Grayson are slowly falling for each other, but the Joker is on the Bat-family's tail. Dick gets hurt badly and ends up in a coma for five years. After he awakens, he realizes that their has been a traitor in the family, who put him there! Can Dick and Jason maintain a relationship and save their family?
1. Jason

The smoke curled from my cigarette up into the cold air. The frost was dark today and the smoke drifted up in little thin wisps, cutting through the cold. I had taken up smoking recently, it calmed my nerves. Tim had been egging me to quit. He was the only real member of the bat family that I still spoke too. Bruce called on occasion, but not for me, for business. Bruce had changed since we worked side by side. He was harder, angrier now. Somewhere, the darkness that he fought grew inside and latched into his heart.

I flicked the ash and peered out the window. The roof was covered in a slick ice. We never got pretty snow here; it was always buddy and brown. The little burning embers that I flicked off were the only amount of color before fading out.

I took a last drag. The heat of the fire on the filter warmed my fingers. I put it out in my small ashtray and huddled closer as I blew the smoke from my lungs. I had this trick where I would only lightly blow the smoke, so it wasn't really blown out. The smoke would actually our out of my mouth and curl upward and outward. It was peaceful.

I let the cold cut into me before I shut the window and let myself sit on the cool counter a little longer. During the winter, the kitchen window was the best to smoke from. There was a perch in front of it so I could sit up like a child. I would cross my legs and sit on the counter looking out my window to see the sky.

The sun threw shadows around my kitchen and lit up the window. Watching the sun rise was one of the few things that I liked doing. It was steady, constant. I knew that however bad everything got, the sun would still rise every morning. It was here before I was alive, and would be here long after I was gone.

I let myself take a deep breath before jumping down and landing on the cool tile floor. I huddled to the thermostat, jacking it up to eighty. The stupid thing was broken anyway, it wouldn't matter. I hoped that I could trick my mind to believing that it really was eighty.

The crime scene was sparse in the mornings. But I had nothing better to do since I wasn't sleeping anyway. Usually, I would sprint and do acrobats on the roofs to keep myself in shape. I didn't have a personal gym like Bruce did. However, the crisp morning air kept my mind sharp.

I did a flip off of the roof of my apartment building, landing squarely on my feet on the next building. If I had gone on a separate path, I might have gone professional. Maybe I could have been in the Olympics. An image of what my life could have been drifted lazily in my mind.

I made another flip onto the fifth story of the building next door, making a big show of sticking the landing. I bowed to my imaginary crowd, blowing kisses.

My breath became steady as I crossed over more buildings with flips and leaps. I traveled on steady gravel and hard, slanted tile. The Bludhaven roofing business was scarce. I could probably retile some of these for these people.

I traveled a little over a mile without stopping before crouching down over an alley. Maybe I was becoming too serious, like Bruce. After all, I was alone like him.

I'd had a few serious relationships, but one of them ever gave me that special feeling. You know that fluttery, heart wrenching, sick feeling inside? Love. I'd never really been in love. Nothing had ever made me feel, dependent. I was on my own; I didn't need anyone or anything to make me happy. But then again, I wasn't really happy anyway.

I launched myself back across the street and continued until I reached my window again. I flew inside and landed on the flood in a heap. That could have been cleaner.

I dusted myself off and immediately took a fighting stance. Something was not right. Something was wrong. It took me just a second to see that the front door was ajar. There was a smudge of blood on the wall leading to my bedroom. One of my pictures was askew and there was blood on the thermostat.

I moved closer to it. The person had moved the dial up to one hundred. It was obvious this person wasn't a threat if he made this much of a mess just breaking in. I crept along the hallway, hearing no noises. There was a trail of droplets of blood on the floor I just cleaned.

My door was wide open by the time I reached my bedroom. I saw more blood on the floor and I stepped inside. There was a man laying face down on my bed.

I became worried. I was wearing my suit, what if this person didn't know who I was. Turned out, I didn't need to worry.

The man turned over, his black hair tousled all over his head. The thing that stopped me made my mouth gape open. He had the white streak. Bruce and I joked that it was his signature mark. And those eyes, he stared at me with such blue eyes my heart dropped into my stomach. His chiseled chest was obvious through his thin black shirt and his jacket was thrown to the corner. Most obvious, was the red motorcycle helmet on top of the jacket, smeared with blood.

"Jason!" I ran to him. "Where are you hurt?"

"Everywhere."


	2. Intruders

I had not expected such a strong reaction inside myself. Even his voice, it sent signals through my nerves and my bones. My stomach lurched and I felt my veins pump full of adrenaline. I hadn't seen Jason in months, even then, he had been a threat. He rolled over, groaning.

"What happened?" I looked around, while crouching down to see his injuries. He had a few small cuts around his stomach and thighs. I quickly pulled up his shirt, examining them. They were many, but not deep. They were long and clean, they must have been done by a long knife. Most likely a switchblade or something small and easily concealed. Jason moaned.

His hands had many of the same small cuts on his hands. He was on the defense, caught in something that he couldn't handle. He had been trying to protect himself. Both his hands were cut, so he had either lost his weapons or not engaged them at all, that was not like him.

"Someone," He started, attempting to speak. "Knew who I was."

He had a lost a lot of blood. Not enough to die, but enough to black out. I got up and pulled him some water from the fridge. I poured it to his lips and his eyes fluttered.

"Said they could get to me, to you." He winced as I poured the water on one of my clean shirts, wiping his wounds. I was curious. What was he doing in Bludhaven? Who knew him and me? They knew our secret identities?

"Said they could get to Tim and Damian." He looked up at me. "And Bruce."

"They know Bruce?" I wiped more off more of the wounds, crouching on my knees. "Wait, they knew me? Did they follow you?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "Said they wanted to show us something."

I got up quickly and surveyed the apartment. There seemed to be no other people here. But Jason managed to find me and get in, what would stop someone else?

"How did you find me?" I yelled back to him in the bedroom while shutting the door and putting on the deadbolt.

"Come on Dick." I pulled the curtains and bolted the windows before going back to him and removing my domino, placing it on the stand next to the bed. "I was trained under him too."

Oh right. World's best detective. Jason lay on top of the thin mattress, bleeding out. He looked exhausted and all of his clothing was torn. The former boy-wonder had been through a hard fight.

"Why me?" I asked, kneeling down. I reached under the bed and pulled out the first aid kit. It had seen better days. There were always blood stains on the lid and inside was no better. I never owned my own personal Alfred, so I had to stitch myself up more often then not. I pulled out a needle and thread and began working on the deeper slashes on Jason's stomach.

"I had to-" He winced. "Warn you." Jason and I had never had a very solid relationship, even when he was alive, so this surprised me. When he had revealed to Bruce that he was the Red Hood, Bruce made it seem like Jason had turned into a ruthless killer and was completely insane from whatever brought him back. I had always had different theories. Even as Robin, Jason had been volatile. He was impatient and impulsive. That was one of the reasons that he got killed in the first place. I didn't necessarily believe that coming back made him a killer, but it defiantly added to his anger inside.

"Why do you care?" I asked. He had no ties to me or Bruce anyway. It made no sense for him to come here to warn me. Obviously he needed a place to stay for a while, so maybe he had other motives.

"Because despite what you think, Golden Boy," He tilted his head forward and looked at me. "I am not that horrible of a person."

I made no noise to acknowledge that remark. He had always a screwed up impression of me. It was difficult being the first Robin. Bruce had set a standard that I had not wanted. He made me out to be this perfect sidekick, but it was never all true.

I concentrated in my work, stitching up the cuts. I was good caring for people, which was one of the reasons I was in this line of work anyway. So this mind-numbing task of stitching and cleaning him up put my mind at ease while I thought about how to handle the situation. I dipped the needle in and out, while wiping away any stray blood with cold water.

I was up before Jason even heard anything. I shushed him from the doorway while I grabbed my domino and covered my eyes back with it. The door was kicked down and two big guys stepped in, surveying the scene.

They were obviously not from around here. I had never seen anyone in Bludhaven with such confidence. They were professional killers, I could tell. Assassins always had certain elements of stealth and endurance. Before they saw me I threw two batarangs from my waist pockets, catching one of the men reaching for his gun.

"Son of a-" The man yelped. I ran out and removed the two eskrima sticks from the holster on my right thigh. I knocked down the nearest thug, sending him sprawling into the back door, shattering it. The one from the ground staggered up and pulled the batarang from his hand, sending a spray of blood all over the carpet.

Dropping the sticks, I grabbed him by the collar and rammed him against the wall while he struggled to reach for his gun. I grabbed the batarang and jammed it into his jacket, leaving him dangling from the wall. He pulled out his gun and tried to aim it at me, but I was faster. I slid to the ground and kicked the pistol from his hand, sending it rolling on the floor down the hallway. The man screamed and sent a punch landing square on my hip while I jumped back up. I grunted and knocked him out with a quick punch to the jaw.

I looked back down the hallway to see Jason crawling on the floor with his elbows, army style. He grabbed the gun and raised it up to me.

"What are you doing?" I practically yelled at him, seeing the blood trail. He must have ripped out the stitches while trying to scramble for the gun. It didn't even register that he was aiming it at me until I felt myself being lifted off the ground.

"What the hell?" I gasped out loud, almost afraid that this was all a plot to kill me, after all, Jason was never…predictable.

I felt my airway being cut off by a thick arm. I clawed at the arm and sent a few kicks into his gut until I started seeing black spots cross my vision. He was strong and I felt my feet skim the floor.

"I'm going to kill him." He said, standing up, using the wall for support. I knew there was no way that this would end without either me or the man behind me dying so I simply nodded and stopped struggling and let him get a clear shot.

"As if, kid." The guy had a deep, gruff voice that matched his large stature as he cut off more of my air. I gasped desperately and clawed at his arm with my fingers.

When we used to spar together as kids, we had this move practiced. If an attacker came behind (usually Bruce at the time) we would calm down and give a clear shot to the shoulder or face. We never used guns, only batarangs, so it was never lethal. But there were a few times when Jason and I had ganged up on Bruce and taken him down together this way. Jason would wink (our little secret move) and he would shoot, or throw the batarang, while I used all of my strength to duck down and kick upwards so the attacker would fall forward, still holding me. Usually the batarang would connect with a pad on Bruce's shoulder or chest and we would make fun of him all night until I left. This was just right when I became Nightwing, yet still close to Gotham with Bruce, it was still my home.

Jason winked at me and I thrust upwards with my heel and launched myself down with all of my might. I heard the loud shot and then I felt the man's weight fall on me. I could feel the hot blood droplets hit my cheek while I fell and his warm body landed on me.

He was dead before he hit the ground.


	3. You Love Me

I have seen many men die. I have seen the gruesome and bloody appendages thrown and left scattered in the streets laying in their own pools of blood. To say that I was immune to these sights was a lie, but I never let it effect me. Bruce and I had seen a great many things that no human should see let alone have to live with. But, seeing a man shot point blank and then have his dead body land on me was something I had never seen before. The white jelly that was once his brain hit the floor next to me and I instinctively started dry heaving.

"Dick?" Jason sat up, against the wall, clutching his bleeding stomach. "Are you okay?"

I threw the body to my side with disgust and horror. Looking at him, I didn't see my brother, or even a friend. I saw a man with a smoking gun with no remorse. I turned my head and vomited the empty breakfast I had.

"Fine." I muttered standing up. "Get back to the bed. You need to be stitched up." I hesitantly walked to him with wobbly legs.

"Come here." He beckoned me with a finger to the ground where he sat. He saw the fear in my eyes that I was desperately trying to hide. "It's okay." He tossed the gun from his hand and into the other room with the body. I crouched down and sat against the opposite wall.

"Look at me." He said. My eyes met his and I knew he say my fear, the trauma.

"You need stitches." I choked out, looking deep into his icy blue eyes.

"I know how to care for myself Dick." No jokes now, he was all business. "You go take a shower and pack, more will come later."

I nodded. For once, I let him control me. I needed it. Images were playing in my head over and over that I didn't want to see. Blood and gore that threatened to rip apart my carefully constructed sanity. I methodically left him on the ground and walked to the bathroom.

I was a sight to see. My domino was torn and my hair was everywhere. The right side of my head was covered with sticky blood, I didn't know whose. But it covered practically my whole face. My costume was torn and covered in the warm, wet blood. I couldn't cry, not now. The image was too fresh. I tore off the costume, threw it in the toilet and flushed.

I stood under the scalding water praying for a reprieve from the memories that came flooding back. All of the bodies, all of the blood, all of the pain. I could feel myself losing it. I fell against the back of the wall and slid down, letting the water hit my face. I watched the blood swirl down the drain under my legs.

I sat there in a trance until Jason walked in about an hour later.

"Dick, we've got to hurry. We don't have-" He cut off when he saw me crouched in the corner of the tub. If I had been aware of anything, I would have been more embarrassed of him seeing me so weak then seeing me naked.

He picked me up, being a few inches taller anyway, and carried me to my bedroom. He placed me gingerly on the bed as I shivered.

I knew I should help him get the clothes out and hurrying to get everything ready to leave, but I couldn't move. I let him grab his jacket and cover my huddled figure with it before he turned to the closet and started throwing things into an open duffel on the floor. He grabbed my spare costume and domino from the top shelf and shoved it in with three pairs of jeans, a few sweaters, and a few pairs of underwear that he pulled out while rummaging through my drawers for.

I sat up and pulled his jacket closer around me. It smelled good, like Bruce. It smelled like leather and a thick woody must. I looked up a him.

"Here." He threw a few articles of clothing in my direction, "Can you dress yourself?" I nodded.

He gave me a sad look before exiting my room and shutting the door. I inhaled his musky scent before pushing it off my shoulders and pulling on the boxers and jeans that he had put near me. I grabbed the nearest T-shirt and sweater from my closet before throwing a few personal things into the duffel. In my bed stand was my wallet and a few batarangs. I figured I had everything after pulling a wad of hundreds from under my mattress Bruce had given me in case I ever "ran into trouble". It would take a few hours to get to Gotham anyway. I zipped up the duffel and threw it on my shoulder. On second thought, I grabbed the jacket and threw it over the bag.

I threw on some socks and sneakers before joining Jason in the hallway. He was standing at the end of the hall, looking at the body. He had covered it up with a blanket from the couch, respectively.

I walked past him, into the kitchen, trying not to look at the lump under the blanket. I grabbed my cigarettes, my phone, charging on the counter, and a few more wads of twenties inside and old cookbook.

"Let's go." I took one last look at my little home before following Jason out the door and into the unknown.

"Fine, don't listen to me! But when we get lost don't blame me!" Jason bitched as I swerved into the left hand lane.

"I think I know how to get there." I muttered back to him, keeping an angry glare to the traffic before me.

"Sure Dickie-Bird. And when Bruce yells at me for failing _again_, I will happily tell him that this is your fault!" He huffed and folded his arms while pulling a cigarette out from his jacket pocket.

"Hey! No smoking in my car!" He glared at me before rolling the window down and letting the icy chill blow inside. He ducked his head down and lit it, casting a luminescent glow on his face and long hair that fell forward. He was handsome.

Woa, where did that come from? I had never found any man handsome, let alone Jason. He was supposed to be my bitter enemy. He was supposed to be my replacement. My brother.

There it was again! Where had these fond feelings for him come from? I'd never had any feelings toward him, maybe respect. But not much besides that and the sympathy when he died and rose again.

"You want one?" He asked out the one side of his mouth while the other side balanced the cigarette expertly in his lips.

"Sure." I pulled one from the pack and rooted through the center console before finding a lighter. I was always loosing them, so I kept like five, in the car.

"Didn't know you smoked." He inhaled and expertly blew the smoke out through the window. "Goody goody Golden Boy breaks the rules. Does Brucie know?"

"Don't think he rightly cares." I muttered while holding it to my lips and taking a long drag.

"I thought you were supposed to be the good Bruce replacement." He muttered, looking ahead to the traffic.

"Bruce and I are similar." I exhaled the smoke out my open window. "But we are different people."

"But you are so upbeat and…optimistic!" He said tauntingly.

"Mhmm, maybe that's what I want you to see." I took another drag, not wanting to open up to Jason of all people.

"Oh, so maybe Dickie-bird has some sadness in that heart?" He looked over at me before taking another hit. "'Bout time."

I looked over at him, while blowing smoke in his face.

"Asshole." I muttered loud enough for him to laugh and throw an arm around me.

"You love me, admit it."


	4. Back Home

Gotham looked the same as ever. It was dark and gloomy, the name was fitting. The criminals and gangs matched the scenery, as did Batman. Superman would never work in Gotham; a much darker man was needed. Batman came to fit in the anguish that filled the hopeless city, trying to help.

I drove through the slums and the city streets and I was filled with anger. Anger for Batman, for the government, for myself. No one could fix a city who abandoned all hope. No one could bring back something so dear that it had lost. Batman had never learned that.

"That man," Jason looked over at me, "Do you want to talk about it?"

I could still feel the blood in my hair, in my hands. That man had a family, a life. He had a soul and a purpose. He had love and compassion. He didn't deserve to die so horribly, with his brains spewed on the carpet.

"No." I answered curtly, with as much strength as I could muster. "It doesn't matter now." I didn't want Jason to see how much it had affected me, how much it had changed me. I tried to be just like Bruce, cold and unforgiving. But seeing a body is never something that someone should have to become accustomed to.

We turned up the windy road that led to Wayne Manor. The clouds still hovered over this mansion, symbolically not letting any sunlight to shine on its thatched roofs. The house loomed overhead, dark and mysterious. It used to scare me as a child, the way the house seemed to reflect the darkness inside Gotham, and inside Bruce.

I saw Jason visibly stiffen beside me when the gates opened, letting us crawl up to the large driveway and stop the car. The rain started falling, letting us sit inside for a moment in the warmth.

"I haven't been here since…" He mumbled off to himself. Jason had always been a bit of a mystery since his death. He went away after causing enough havoc to join Kori and Roy Harper of all people. I guess he cut the mission short to come to Bludhaven to warn me. I still wondered why he bothered, it's not like we had any connection anymore.

"Come on." I felt no sympathy as I stepped out into the rain. I let my hair and clothes get wet before shutting the door and looking up to the mansion. It seemed smaller since I lived here as a child. Alfred stood on the doorstep carrying a large black umbrella. He walked over to us as Jason stepped out into the rain.

"Hey." Jason squeaked out to Alfred. Alfred smiled at Jason. I feel that Alfred was a genuine soul, one of the good ones. He saw Jason as the enthusiastic child he had once been, not who he turned into. Alfred would never judge.

"Master Dick, Master Jason, welcome back." He turned quick on his heels and left us to follow him inside the dark hall. "Master Bruce was not expecting you."

"Well it is a bit of an urgent matter," I spoke up, letting Jason get accustomed to the vastness of the place again. I felt he did not want to be here, much less helping at all. "Is he in?"

"Master Wayne is nocturnal if you may remember." I smiled. "But I'd assume that his rounds are about over, him and Master Damian must be home any time now."

"Oh I forgot about the little demon." Jason finally said as Alfred led us into the kitchen.

"Would you like some supper?" Alfred ignored the comment. "I'd imagine you boys are hungry from such a long day."

I nodded and sat down at the counter and watched Alfred cook. Alfred had been more of a family to me at times then Bruce had. Alfred was sympathetic, caring. After Jason died, Bruce became more of a hardened man than he had been before. In a way, Jason's passing had been the one thing to let Bruce become the Batman. Before he died, it was a game. It was fun, yet dangerous. It was our secret lives. But after, Batman became the man, and Bruce became the secret that no one saw.

Alfred prepared some warm soup that I couldn't eat, but Jason scarfed down. I still had the images of the dead man in my head, I couldn't bear to touch the meal. After Jason finished, Alfred showed us up to our own rooms. He assured us that Bruce would still be here in the morning.

After lying in bed for hours, I head the door creek open. Jason stood, silhouetted against the darkness.

"Are you awake?" He whispered into the large room.

"Yea." I sat up, pulling the covers around me. He shut the door and I saw his outline move over to the side of the bed.

"I'm sorry." He said softly.

"For what?" I asked him. It was rare for him to show any emotion at all. But still, that emotion he did show made him more…human.

"This is all my fault." He looked over at me, his iridescent eyes glowing at me in the darkness.

"How?" I watched him kick his shoes off and crawl over to me. His t shirt clung to his chest and his jeans seamed much too big for him. For a moment, I saw the frightened little boy he had been. He changed so much, I wanted to hold him and tell him that I wished I could bring it back.

"Joker, he found out…who we are." He looked over at me with a small twinge of fear deep behind his eyes. My heart pounded in my ears as he scooted closer to me. I could feel the warmth radiating off of him. "He came to me, again. He trapped me and thought he could recreate how I…died."

I waited as he looked away from me, taking a deep breath. I could only imagine the horror.

"I broke free." He looked back to me. "I slipped up. I called him Bruce. His eyes lit up like I'd just handed him the detonator to a bomb in the city, which I most likely had. I didn't know how much time until he figured out who you were, and Tim. I just ran to your place from the docks and hoped I wasn't too late." He gulped down some air before looking back at me with fear. "I almost was."

"Oh Jason." I squeaked out. I saw the little boy, hugging his knees, remembering how the Joker took everything from him. "You don't have to be strong for me." He looked at me.

"I have to be, I can't be…I won't let anyone…" He stuttered, eyes darting.

"In." I finished, looking down sheepishly. "You won't let anyone in."

He nodded. I could feel his crumpled energy. He shouldn't have to pretend for me. I don't know why, but I felt closer to him. I felt connected. We were one in the same.

"I'm so sorry Dick." He turned away, hiding his face from my view. I was surprised when my own hand reached out and pulled his chin back to me. There shock was on his face, but also read…acceptance.

"Don't be." He let me take him into my arms. I felt him rest his head on my chest and he listened to my heartbeat. Life was so fragile.

I whispered soft words to him as he held me close. I wouldn't let him go. I knew no one had made him feel loved, accepted. I would give him that, he deserved it.

We fell asleep, tangled together.


	5. Tim

When I awoke to the musky sunlight streaming through the windows, he was gone. No evidence of last night at all. It was as if he had been a midnight hallucination, a lucid dream.

I sat up and breathed in the smell of home. The mansion always had a familiar oaky smell to it, as if it was just carved into a tree. The smell of family and acceptance.

The light came in slanted, throwing shadows across the floor. I remembered yesterday morning as the same, only in my apartment. I had sat on my kitchen counter and smoked a cigarette with no knowledge of this madness.

I slipped on my jeans from yesterday and walked down the stairs to find Jason sitting defensively at the table. His arms were crossed and his chin was set back, angrily. Alfred set a plate of steaming food in front of him, he did not touch it. Bruce sat across from Jason, sternly looking at him.

It seemed to be some weird staring contest. Damian was cheerfully eating his food, as if not noticing the tension. Sometimes, that kid actually acted like a kid. Sometimes, you could see a hint of childlike wonder still residing inside him.

"Is Tim here yet?" I walked into view and saw Jason visibly relax. He knew I was on his side. He knew that I could save him from the big bad daddy-bats.

"He is on his way." Bruce answered gruffly, not even looking at me.

"Good morning Master Dick." Alfred greeted me with as much enthusiasm as he could muster this early in the morning. "I trust you slept well?"

I went into panic mode, thinking he knew about Jason sneaking in last night. I nodded without looking into his eyes and sat down in between Jason and Damian. I caught Jason shooting me a pleading glance, but I could barely return the gesture.

"So what is it?" Bruce laid his hands on the table.

"Joker knows our secret identities." I spoke after Jason sat, mutely staring at the floor.

"I suppose that's his fault?" Bruce nodded to Jason as if he wasn't even in the room.

"It's not like that…"I muttered. "It wasn't his fault."

"Mhmm." Bruce sat, contemplating his next move.

"A few hired men already got after me in my apartment. We were afraid that you or Tim would be the next target." I hoped that Tim was on his way soon. I didn't want him to get hurt on the fact that I slept in and Jason suddenly lost his ability to speak.

"How did they find out who we are, Grayson?" Damian finally looked up from his plate to us, mirroring Bruce's stern expression.

"A slip up." Jason spoke up softly. "I was careless."

Bruce nodded as if this was the most normal thing in the world. I looked at Jason; hopefully he would get some support from me.

"I will deal with it." Bruce got up, tossing his napkin on the table, and headed to the batcave.

"Told you. He wants nothing to do with me," Jason hissed.

"It's not personal." I said, rubbing his shoulder.

Damian's piercing gaze was much like Bruce's. It betrayed no emotion. He was very different from a regular child. He seemed to pick up on things that not even I noticed. He really was the son of Batman.

"Is there something going on between you two?" He asked, giving a questioning glance. I did not understand what he meant until Jason got up abruptly and left.

"Ohhh…" I leaned back in my chair, feeling his warm body gone from my reach. I got it. To be honest, I was surprised Damian would think that. Although, my thoughts the past few days seemed to say different. To say that I'd never thought about Jason as a lover would be a lie. He was a good man, just misunderstood. Just, been though some incredibly hard times.

I got up and followed Jason out of the room.

"It is too late, I'm going to check on him." I walked down to the batcave and announced to Bruce. He was sitting at the computer, furiously typing away. He barely acknowledged my presence, so I took a motorcycle and drove out.

Jason was waiting for me at the end of the driveway.

"Need a ride?" I smiled up at him through my helmet. He said nothing. He straddled the cycle behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I felt a familiar flutter go through my heart and I tried not to make it noticeable. It scared me, this sudden urge to pull him into my arms and kiss him passionately.

I revved the engine and drove off, leaving those thoughts in the dust.

By the time we reached Tim's, Jason had not let his iron grip on my waist go, and I was strangely okay with that. We parked the bike and rang the bell for his apartment.

I became worried after the third ring. I knew that something was wrong, I just knew it. Jason was strangely quiet through my mental breakdown, of course.

I started pacing.

"You are such a girl," He remarked, from the bike. "There is an old fire escape around back." He gestured around the building while pulling a cigarette to his lips.

I rushed off in the direction of the back. I found a small, rusty fire escape and scaled it effortlessly. I found Tim's window, and at only a little bit of tugging and prodding, it popped open. I crawled in.

I noticed the smell first. It alarmed my other senses and I ducked in. Although, I was in civilian dress, so it's not like I had much to fight with. It was metallic and stagnant.

Tim lay in the middle of the floor, curled in a ball. I saw the pool of blood spreading from him. He was so young. Only seventeen. He shivered. The movement sent my mind into action.

I searched the small apartment for any sign of the intruders, but they had left. I crouched down to Tim and placed my hand on his shoulder. He shivered again. There was so much blood.

"JASON!" I yelled frantically. "JASON!"

He came up the fire escape faster than I had.

"You don't need to scream Dickie-bird." He squeezed himself through the small window. "I'm right her…oh God."

In any other time, I would have blushed when he called me Dickie –bird. But now I couldn't. My mind was going a million miles a minute. I pulled Tim into my arms, looking for his injury.

"No…no…no…not again. Not again. No. Not again." I muttered, rocking back and forth on my heels.

I felt the tears fall from my eyes as Jason looked at me. I read hurt, anger, sadness, regret…so much flashed across his face. So much pain. I felt a surge of anger pulse through my veins.

"He held me…like that." He fell back on his butt. I glared at him then returned to Tim. Jason had to make everything about him.

"It's not all about you Jason! Fucking look at him!" I screamed, tears falling from my lids. I jerked him up to me, willing him to open his eyes.

"Fuck! Stop! Put him down!" Jason's eyes widened. "Stop it Dick!"

"This is not about you!" I screamed at him incoherently.

"Stop it, just look!" He came over. "It's his back. Put him down now Dick. You could be hurting him really badly."

Sure enough, I ran my fingers down his spine and found two sets of matching bullet holes. My body went rigid. It was my fault. All my fault. I made everything worse.

I laid him back in the position he was in, trying not to screw up any more. Jason went into the kitchen and called Bruce. Bruce would be here faster than any ambulance.

"I'm sorry Jason." I didn't look up. I stroked Tim's hair and laid my hand on his neck. His pulse was steady, but weak.

"He will be okay." He knelt down next to me. I know he felt uncomfortable, this family he never knew.

"I can't let this happen again." I turned from Tim and laid my head in Jason's shirt. I stained its white surface with Tim's blood. I cried, letting everything out. From the poor man dying, to Jason last night and Tim now. I let it all out. Jason put his hand to my head, holding me tight against him. He rested his head on top of mine and I listened to his heartbeat. He is going to be okay, he is going to live. I repeated it over and over in my head.

Jason stroked my hair, letting me break in half. He watched over Tim's form. He made sure that he was still breathing, that he was still alive. He felt obligated too. Obligated to not let another member of this family die.


	6. Igniting The Fire

"Jason, I'm sorry." I stood, leaning on the doorframe. "About what I said."

His blue eyes looked up from the gun he was cleaning on his lap. I didn't think he meant to, but it was pointed at me. I couldn't read any expression on his solid face. He was like stone, rigid, like Bruce. They were more similar than they seemed.

"It's not a big deal Dick." He didn't use any nickname for me. "I know you care about the boy."

I care about you too, I care so much. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry that I wasn't there for him, when he died. I was sorry that I wasn't there for him when he came back. That every time I heard his voice, my heart fluttered and my stomach jumped.

"Jason, I-" I cut myself off. I couldn't open up to him. I couldn't take that kind of rejection.

"Shut the door." He looked back down to the gun on his lap. The hard creature, he didn't used to be that way. He used to be a child, innocent and loving. I turned and shut the door behind me, walking into the dimly lit room. "You know I've lost a lot."

He picked the gun up and placed it on the bedside table, getting up. He stood, facing away from me.

"With Kori and Roy I felt at home. But something was missing. I thought I was in love." This was more emotion than he'd ever shown me. He was capable of love? He never showed it. "But it wasn't the same." He shook his head.

"So many people have died because of me." He turned and looked to me. "So many people are lost because of me."

I opened my mouth to say no but he put up a hand to stop me. He was intent on showing me how much of a monster he really was.

"And I have put this family through too much." He lifted his eyes to avoid meeting mine. "I don't deserve it. I don't deserve any of it." He paused.

"And I don't know why you are sticking around. I don't know why you look at me with hope, or even care. After all I have done to this family. To you. I nearly got you and Tim killed. I don't know why you would put up with me anymore."

I saw a drop fall down his cheek. It seemed so unreal, I couldn't believe it. Just last night he told me that he wouldn't open up to me.

"You're right. I am selfish and I make everything about what happened to me. But I can't let it go. I was weak once, and I got killed for it. I was an idiot and he beat me. I was a child…" He drifted off. I couldn't move to comfort him, I was frozen in shock. "He took everything I had. And I was alone. I fucking died alone. And then you put me in that box. That goddamn wooden box. I couldn't- I was trapped- I dug myself out. And no one was there for me. Bruce gave up on me. And so did you."

He stood tall. I could see right through his façade of strength. He was hurting, and he was right. We turned a cold shoulder when he came back, justifying it to ourselves that he was bad now. That he killed people now.

I took him in my arms and held him. His head slumped down on my shoulder and he grabbed my waist firmly. The flutter went through my chest again.

"Jason. I- I never stopped loving you." I pulled his head from mine. "I am so sorry. I should have come sooner. I should have gone after you. I should have dug you up. I should have-"He cut me off.

I shouldn't have been surprised; after all, this was what I'd been craving. I'd been wondering and thinking about him and me, together. But I'd written it off; it had all be so confusing. But now, it all came back clear as day. His lips came down on mine and I tasted the salt from his tears. I could feel the rejection, the sadness, everything that he'd been carrying around for all these years.

My hands drifted. I cupped his jaw and ear with one hand and his neck with the other. It was like we were connected. I could feel everything he felt. It was heartbreaking.

He sucked in a breath and pulled his hands up into my hair. Our lips came together again, our tongues dancing across our lips. I could feel his fingers winding through my hair. I could feel our tears mixing together before I even knew I was crying with him.

He hitched my leg up with one hand and I drifted my hands down to his hard stomach. His other hand left my hair to pull my other leg up, so I had my thighs wrapped around his hips.

He dropped to the bed. My nerves started to pulse in my veins as he hovered over me, my legs still wrapped around his waist. I brought him down for another kiss before we had time to really th!ink about what was happening.

His blue eyes burned like flames above me. I locked my eyes with his, trusting him. I trusted him. I wanted to fix him, to make him whole again.

Jason reminded me much of a brush fire when I was younger. He was destructive and juvenile, destroying everything in his wake. But at the same time, I loved fire. I loved the pain and the thrill of it. It was beautiful, the way a flame would lick up the side of a match, covering it in its' hot breath.

When he touched me, I felt the fire. I felt it coursing through my veins. I felt my heart beating in sync with his, as if saying that I now belonged to him. The heat licked up and down my body, leaving me not burnt, but ignited. It was as if a small part of me was left untouched all these years, but something inside him touched me. It gave me a blaze. And as long as I was on fire, we could create a burning inferno together.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Gah! This was so much fun to write! I'm so glad I finally go them to hook up officially! Sorry no Tim in this chapter, but I swear he is going to be okay!  
**

**Please review and follow! I have no idea if I did good or bad with this scene (I think I did okay) so please give me your input! Thank you!  
**


	7. Weird

It should be that in a perfect world that I'd dream of wonderful things all revolving around Jason. In a perfect world, I would get at least one night of decent sleep. But I digress; I did clonk out around two for about an hour or so, enough time for Jason to sneak out.

My dreams were horrifying. I saw Tim, lying dead in the Batcave. I saw Jason leaving, never coming back. I saw Bruce killing the Joker. I saw my parents' death over and over. I awoke with a start after reliving their fall in slow motion. Jason was gone.

In a normal house, three o' clock in the morning is when everyone is asleep. The Wayne Manor has never been a normal house though. Despite it's charming appeal from the outside view, once anyone ventured inside –or more rather downstairs- the house was anything but homely. I did not see Jason on my way to the cave, and I was okay with that. I did not want to face him yet, after last night.

Alfred was down in the cave alone with Tim. I was surprised to see that Bruce had gone, Damian; not so much so. Bruce had felt so much loss starting with Jason. It was hell for him any time on of us came to him broken, it brought everything back to him.

"Alfred." I wandered over to his slumped form. "You should go to bed."

He looked up as if I was a ghost.

"Oh, Master Dick, I couldn't do that." I put my hand on his shoulder.

"Really Alfred. You need sleep." He looked at me with tired eyes.

"I already sent Bruce off a few hours ago." He muttered, straightening up. "Make sure that the boy is okay? He shouldn't be waking up for a few more hours, when we can access the damage."

"Did it hit his spine?" I looked down to his sleeping form, so peaceful. It would have been much more peaceful had he not been hooked up to several different machines.

"Thankfully, no. This family seems to have a predisposition to spinal injuries as it is." I laughed at his dry humor.

"Go on up. I'll watch him." He turned from me. "And Alfred?"

He turned back around.

"You keep this family sane, you know that?" I smiled at him, hoping I could convey the gratitude that Bruce had never shown.

"Oh I am well aware this family would fall apart without me." He smiled. "But the excitement keeps me young Master Dick."

He walked back up the stairs as I chuckled, sitting down at the Batcomputer. I thought about the current situation. Joker knew all of our secret identities. He had been picking us off one by one, but we were all here now, so he would have to get all of us now. It seemed unlikely that he would actually pick any one of us off. Apart we were strong. But together? Forget about it. But then again, Joker was never much for just random killings, especially of the Bat family. His scheme behind it must be elaborate at best.

I grew restless, just sitting there. My mind kept racing over all of the things that Joker could have concocted. He could be pulling us in, together for something. I grew paranoid. I did the only thing I could when I felt cramped and paranoid, I started working out.

It may sound silly, but feeling the pain of my muscles, feeling the pull of the tendons and the joints come alive made me feel better. I sat on the floor, doing push-ups until I couldn't think anymore. I worked out all of my frustration, all of my fear and anger. I did countless sit ups and push-ups until my body screamed in protest, and then did more. It was exhilarating.

At around eight, Bruce came down to check on Tim, relieving me of my post.

"Alfred said that he is going to be alright." Bruce nodded at me, sweating on the floor as if it was an everyday scene. "The bullets did not hit anything too major."

"Good." I stood up to him. "I'll uhh, go take a shower."

"Good idea." Bruce was a man of few words, a trait that I still hadn't gotten used to. He was much more, not happy, but more…naïve when I was Robin. After Jason died and Barbra was shot, he became a darker Batman.

The shower was scalding. I loved taking scalding showers; somehow the heat took my mind off everything that bothered me. I could just stand there, not having anyone rely on me. Stupid, I know.

I heard a knock on the door, a slight rapping. I did not know anyone in the Wayne house who would knock softly, everyone was much too abrasive.

"This house has more than one bathroom!" I yelled over the sound of the running water.

"Too bad, I'm coming in anyway." Jason walked in and I practically slipped on my ass. He had softness in his features. An afterglow, if you will.

"Jesus." I regained my balance and rinsed my hair. He just stood there, staring with his hands folded over his chest. I shut the water off and grabbed a towel off the rack, wrapping it around my waist.

"Is Tim okay?" He asked me, avoiding the elephant in the room.

"Yea, Alfred said that he'll be fine." I shook my hair out like a dog, getting Jason wet. "Where did you go this morning?"

He looked uncomfortable. He shifted his weight on one foot and avoided my gaze.

"I had to go." He cleared his throat. "Meet up with Kori and Roy." He said it like it was all one word. _Meetupwithkoriandroy_.

"What for?" I looked up at him. It didn't bother me before that he was hanging around with Kori, it shouldn't now.

"Well they wanted to know what happened, why I bailed out on them when the Joker broke out of Arkham." He looked over at me. I saw a blush spreading across his cheeks before he turned his face away. I looked down at my abdomen. There were three sets of long scratch marks running from my chest down my pelvis.

"What did you tell them?" I folded my arms over my chest, not doing a very good job of covering them.

"The truth." He still didn't look directly at me. "I had family business I needed to take care of."

His eyes scanned over my body, from head to toe. Hid gaze lingered on the scratches a second to long before he lifted his gaze to mine. His bright blue eyes never ceased to amaze me. They held such knowledge, such pain and wisdom.

"Sorry about those." He smiled a crooked smile. He made no move to come closer, so I did. I closed the distance between us and brushed the hair off his forehead.

"Sorry about that." I pulled the collar of his jacket down, revealing a large, purple hickey.

He laughed with me. We forgot everything going on downstairs. We forgot the Joker and Batman and Kori and Roy.

"This is so weird." He cupped my face in his callused hands.

"The weirdest." I agreed, kissing him without thinking. I knew it would only blow up in our faces later.


	8. Shots

It had been a week. A stressful heart attack-inducing week of waiting. Waiting for the Joker to make his move. I was assuming that he was deep in his lair filled with goons working up some grand plan on how to kill all of us one by one. I was incredibly wrong.

Tim had long since woken up, and had long since gone back to his way of avoiding Jason at all costs. Being that Jason pretty much avoided the family, he didn't mind much. I think he felt pretty guilty for the Joker finding out everything as it was. Tim had gone about his business with the family as usual with the aid of a wheelchair and eventually his own legs, being too stubborn to actually use the wheelchair anymore.

Honestly to have the Joker walk in through the front door of Wayne Manor guns blazing was the least thing I had been expecting. But the Joker was anything but predictable. I was sitting in the kitchen with Alfred and Tim, preparing for dinner, when it happened. Jason was upstairs. Bruce was down.

The knocking was slight, almost soft, so not alarming. Alfred went to answer it. We thought it might have been Babs or Cass finally responding to our calls, but no.

The shots rang out clear as day. I could feel Tim drop the mixing bowl behind me and we ran together to the hallway. Well I ran, he hobbled. We hid behind the wall and I looked out to see Alfred.

He was on the floor, leg shot. He was a good actor; we knew he had seen worse. But the Joker was bent on finding us; he wouldn't go out of his way to put down an old man. The Joker had a crazed look in his hollow eyes, more crazed than usual. He had three goons, all big guys with big guns. They ambled inside while he strode around, sizing up the place.

"Tim." I turned toward him, his face pale. He was afraid, it was obvious. If anything could frighten a member of the Bat family it was the Joker. "Go get Bruce and Damian. Barricade yourself in the cave. You are weak and can't fight, you'll only bring us down."

He nodded and jogged down to the library to find the entrance to the cave. I knew he would fight Bruce to be a part of bringing down the Joker, he would agree with me. He was weak, not prepared.

I couldn't tell you why a sudden pain shot through my heat as I thought of Jason. How he must have heard the shots ring out. I knew he would be coming down soon; he would have to deal with this mess. I didn't want him to get hurt, I wanted him to stay up there and let Bruce and I take this man down.

I heard him take more footsteps down the hallway as his goons followed. I hid in the shadows until they came into view. I ducked behind one of the goons, knocking him out with a swift kick to the back of the knee and an uppercut to the jaw. He hit the floor and already shots were being fired at me. I leaped and ran down the hallway weaving as I went.

"Dick?" Jason called from the opposite direction. He did it on purpose. He distracted them. They trained their guns on him, firing at random while he ducked behind a column, giving me enough time to take out one more goon.

"Oh give me that!" The Joker swooped down and took the gun from the unconscious man's hands, pointing it at me. Jason peaked out from the other end of the hallway.

I bounded away before he could get a clear shot. I leapt over his head and toward Jason on the other end of the hallway. I nodded at him and we ran off together in the direction of the library. We kept weaving in and out between rooms, putting more distance between us and the Joker. He still followed close by though.

By the time we reached the library, Batman and Robin had just immerged from behind the clock, Tim hopefully in the cave.

"Look out!" Bruce yelled as we dove inside the room. Shots rang out behind us and I felt a cold breath of air whiz past my ear. I saw them enter the room in the back of my vision and jumped to protect myself while more shots fired out behind me.

"Dick!" Jason yelled even though he was standing right next to me. I rolled away from the shots and ducked behind the piano, watching Bruce take out the last goon. Jason skidded to a halt next to me.

"Joker is alone, I got it." I said to him, getting up.

"Better let them handle this one." Jason put his hand on my shoulder easing me back down behind the protection of the piano. "Looks like they already have him."

"Why? Are you okay?" I looked him over, but he seemed all in one piece. No cuts, nothing bleeding.

"Dick. Just don't move okay?" He looked at me, and then looked over the piano with a worried glance. "Here."

He sat me down, leaning against one of the legs. I worriedly looked up at him. I knew something was wrong, but I felt no pain. He bit his lip as he looked down at me while easing his jacket off.

"What?" I looked down. I really shouldn't have. There was a dark splotch of rapidly seeping blood on my shirt right below my left lung. I couldn't feel it at all. It must have been the endorphins shutting of my pain receptors, which was bad. He pulled my face up and placed his jacket on my chest.

"You're going to be okay." He looked at me with such determination in his eyes. He knelt closer to me and cupped my face in his rough palm. "Please."

"It's fine." I mumbled as I felt the first sting of pain, trying not to wince. "I'll be fine."

"Listen Grayson," I struggled to look up at him, my slight was going fuzzy and I felt myself cough op blood. I felt it dribble down my chin. "I won't let you die on me."

"Drake!" I faintly heard Damian yelling to Tim in the cave. "Get the first aid kit! Grayson is going into shock!"

"Go get Alfred." I stuttered, trying to focus on Damian, but Jason's eyes were the only thing close enough and strong enough. "He…he needs it."

"Bruce has that handled." Damian looked up and then back down at me. Jason's hand never left my cheek and his eyes never left mine. "Drake hurry up!" he yelled again.

"Dick. Dick stay here." My eyes glazed in and out, I tried. I really did, by unconsciousness has a way of being so appealing. "Dick! Stay with me!"

I felt his warm hands grab my neck and jawbone, keeping my face up, eye level with his intense gaze. I got lost in his eyes, I could drown in them.

"You are not leaving me." He said. Despite Damian standing right there and Tim supposedly hurrying from the cave, he kissed me. I saw the sparks again like I had the first time we kissed. It should have kept me awake. It should have been enough.

I wanted to weave my hands in his hair and bring him down to me the way I had before, but my body didn't respond. In fact, it stopped responding. I seemed to drift in and out for a few more seconds to see his beautiful face rise above me, but after that, I was gone.


	9. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

**So if you haven't heard "Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons I would suggest you listen to it really quick, being that is what this whole story is based off of. In the beginning more of how their love is literally "Awakening" and now since Dick is waking up, I tried to incorporate a lot of the themes from the song into this chapter. Also, please review and favorite, I need your input! I have no idea where to take the story from here!  
**

* * *

I saw white. I might have been the light at the end of the tunnel. It might have been a chemical reaction in my brain. All I knew was this white light. It was sudden and then it was gone. I felt numb, disembodied you might say, technically speaking. I was dead.

I heard Jason's voice echo to me. I tried to call out to him, but it couldn't find my voice. I couldn't find anything. I couldn't look around, I couldn't see my body.

I was afraid. I didn't know where I was. I didn't know what was going on. I didn't want to spend eternity alone and afraid.

"You are not leaving me." The voice cut through the fog again. It was his voice, I knew it. I would recognize it out of thousands. Silly for me to be hearing it now, being dead and all.

There was no sound for a long time. I held onto his voice in my memory. I seared every touch, every word in my mind. I wouldn't forget him in death. I memorized every curve, every rise and fall of his body. That memory kept me sane.

I don't know how long I was there in the darkness. It felt like forever. My mind wasn't working properly much anyway, so it didn't matter. It seemed like death should have taken longer. Usually it is quick. Maybe this darkness was my personal hell.

I began to feel pain. It was strange, feeling a ghost pain in a limb that you can't see. Everything was black. But somehow, my heart hurt. It must be heartbreak, I thought dimly. It is literally breaking.

Had Jason been there, he would have rolled his eyes and told me to stop being so melodramatic, but he wasn't there. Yet somehow, his voice still was in my mind. I could hear him through the darkness, but it was fogged. I could not comprehend what he was saying. He was talking to me, somewhere out there, I could feel it.

The pain became worse. So worse in fact, that I managed to find my voice in the darkness to scream out for him. I screamed my voice hoarse in the black abyss. Although it did me no good.

It wasn't like I had some huge revelation or anything. One moment my mind was simply numb, dead, and the next it was firing. The entire ordeal must have only lasted a few minutes.

Everything called at once. It was as if I was just coming up from being underwater. I crawled my way back into my unresponsive body above me. I pushed myself back into the limbs, forcing them to respond to my touch.

"Jason!" I sat up, sensed exploding around me. A beeping machine to my left was going crazy, sounding off all kinds of alarms. My eyes were pinpricks, unseeing in the harsh light of the room.

"Grayson?" I heard an unfamiliar voice next to me. I turned with a quick motion.

"Who are you?" My eyes started to adjust and I took in my surroundings. Something was very wrong. I was in a hospital, not the Batcave.

The only real alarm in my head was my lung. It was not hurting. It should have been. An upright jolt on a healing bullet should have given me searing pain at the least.

"You're awake." I turned to look at the boy again. He was a teenager (around 15) with short black hair and blue eyes. I did not know him. Something about him, it tugged at my memory. "Bruce said…the doctors said you wouldn't wake up. Jason has been here so much. He's been talking to you, trying to get you to wake up. They said…it wouldn't be any use."

"Who are you?" I said again, looking around the room frantically.

"It's me, Damian." I looked at him, gaping. It was impossible. Damian was only ten.

"No. No. No. This isn't happening." I jolted out of the bed, staring at his face. I pulled the needles out of my arms and a trickle of blood oozed out. "This is impossible."

I backed to the door, still staring at his face. It was not possible. I felt myself run into a sturdy body. It was warm and clutched my arms. Automatically I felt at ease even when my mind was falling apart. His touch soothed me.

"Dick?" I would have known that voice anywhere.

"Jason?" I turned to him. He was different; I could see it in his features. He was older, taller, and scarier. His face had a new set of ridges and incomprehensible anger that I had never seen before, even for him. "What is happing?"

He said nothing, only looked at me. He did not smile. He shook his head, muttering to himself. His eyes were swimming but he did not cry. He didn't need to be strong for me.

"You were in a coma. You died and the doctors brought you back, but you had really bad brain damage from the dead cells. They said it would take a miracle." His voice drifted off but his eyes stayed plastered to mine, as if making sure they were real. He was scaring me. "I stayed here at first. I've been talking to you. I read that it might help. Familiar voices can help stimulate the brain to connect the nerve fibers back to the brain stem."

"Jason…" I looked down. I was different, not just him. I was smaller. I pulled up the flimsy cotton shirt I was wearing. I had no muscle tone. My eyes widened. I had a faint pink scar over the bullet wound. It was already fading. I looked back up to him with fear.

"Dick. I thought I'd lost you." He looked at me with tears spilling over his bottom lids. "You've been gone for five years."


	10. Earl Grey

Jason stood upright, rolling his eyes. My thighs were wrapped around his shoulders with my head hanging to the floor. I grunted and pulled myself up again as he narrowed an eyebrow and looked down at me again.

"I am going to drop you." He grunted, attempting to walk without crashing to the wall nearest to our left. My arm flailed from my chest defensively, hitting the dresser before I pulled it back into my chest.

"No you won't." He steadied as I did another crunch back up to him. My face met his and I smiled before I dipped back upside-down again. Honestly, I don't even know how we had gotten in this position. "I am too cute and you can't resist me."

He said nothing, only walked to the kitchen, using his hand as a guide on the wall.

"Didn't the doctor say that you shouldn't be working out so soon after getting vertical?" I pulled a leg down and flipped myself over like a dancer onto the floor, releasing the other leg in the process.

"Did you honestly think I wouldn't?" I sat down in the nearest stool at the kitchen. He pulled open the fridge and tossed me a water bottle from over his head. I caught it before it hit something breakable.

Jason's apartment was strangely elegant for him. I'd always assumed he would have had lots of dirty clothes and condoms lying around. But no, he surprised me yet again. He had a taste for fine china. Strangely, an antique tea set that he'd seen me staring at was one of his most valued items.

The idea of seeing Jason come home after a long day of fighting crime and having a steaming cup of Earl Grey made me laugh, but was somehow believable. Something Talia turned him onto no less. She had brought him back to life, in more ways than one.

"No, but it's only been a few days." He reminded me. Taking a sip from my water. "And Bruce still wants you to move in there. He doesn't trust me."

"I can't imagine why." I mused thoughtlessly, looking at some of the sparsely decorated walls. Honestly, it was cute. He had most of the things from my apartment (apparently Bruce had sold it three years into my coma). Jason had a fit and decided to loot the place for reminders. He had a few pictures that I'd had stashed away, one by his bedside, one in the living room across from the kitchen. He also had a few of my things hanging up. Just random things I'd never noticed but he took a liking too. Right above his tea set he had my domino, framed. It was cute, a nice gesture.

"After you went under, they couldn't fathom why I kept hanging around. Why I got so angry, why I kept visiting you all this time. I never told them anything. I felt stupid." His eyes wandered, leaning his arms on the counter in front of me. "After all, we'd only been intimate once. We'd really only bonded in those few days. I wasn't going to tell them any of that."

"Damian probably figured it out." I looked around more. Looking at more of my things his had scattered around. Between the bookshelves and scattered volumes of _Brain Damage for Dummies _there were little things, my old letter opener here, an old bookmark there. He even had an old glove of mine with the finger-stripes.

"He did." He nodded, getting back up. "Tea?"

I smiled. "Sure."

"He asked me about it, around a year ago. 'Were Grayson and you more than friends? Can't imagine why'". He even mimicked Damian's little -Tt- noise.

"What did you say?" He poured some water into the kettle and set it over the burner on the gas stove before turning to me.

"I said that I loved you." Instead of this being a sappy hallmark moment like it should have been, I spit up water on the table. I ended up coughing and sputtering over the counter while Jason watched, laughing.

I eventually looked back up to him. "Jason, we only had one night together. All this time, you were feeling this?"

He walked over to me and looked at me the way he did in the hospital, like he never thought he would ever see me again. He put a hand on my neck, drawing me closer.

"Dick. It killed me inside. I finally opened up to you. I finally gave everything to you, it was perfect. And the day after you die in my arms." He blinked away a tear that I pretended not to notice. "I never got to tell you how I felt."

"I'm not going anywhere." I smiled and he grinned. He let his hand drift away and let the screaming kettle off of the burner. He poured two steaming cups and doctored them up for us.

"I read everything I could." He shot me a smile from the stove as I sat back down. "About coma patients and brain damage. I should have gone to night school; I could have been a neurologist by now."

"Yea if your nights weren't already filled up." I chuckled as he handed me a cup.

"Careful it's hot." He said, leaning back down on the counter. "And don't fill up; we have dinner with the Bat and his demons tonight."

He brought his cup and tapped it with mine, laughing. His eyes crinkled around the edges and he looked happy, like he hadn't in a long time. I took a sip. Wouldn't you know it. Earl Grey.


	11. Whatever Happened To Tim?

I hadn't seen the bat-family in days. Well, to me it seemed like days. They didn't look any different. They didn't look like five years of their lives had passed. If I looked close enough I could make out worry lines and dents in each face. Each happy expression wore a mask of pain, a pain I couldn't help but feel I caused.

Tim was pale and thin, he looked at me with deep eyes that I hadn't seen him wear. Honestly, he seemed to be the only one at the faux "reunion" who wasn't wearing a smile. His face was somber and my mind flashed back to a different time. I remembered cradling his broken body in my arms as Jason watched from afar, unable to help as I thought I would lose another brother. It seemed the event had taken its toll on him, even though no one seemed to have noticed.

Jason expertly steered me around the manor, as if it had changed at all. He navigated me through the door, with a protective arm around my waist. It was strange for me, now that I had been awake for a few days. It was as if the world went through a skip and left me out of it.

"You should stay here." Bruce forced a smile and put a large hand on my shoulder. I hadn't managed to get back my lacking muscle tone, and standing beside hulking Bruce made me feel even more self-conscious about it. "I can have the best doctors looking after you."

"It's okay, I think Jason can look out for me." He cleared his throat and looked at his feet after a moment. Being raised by a detective, I could only assume that Damian had told him that Jason and I were a couple, if that was what we were. I highly doubt Jason would have known, he never had much contact with Bruce when I was upright in the first place.

"Master Dick. It is so good to see you again; I presume you are feeling better?" If anyone could alleviate the tension in the Wayne Manor it was Alfred. God Bless his soul.

"Much better." I wandered to him, leaving Bruce and Jason to stand awkwardly side by side. Alfred led me into the kitchen adjacent to the dining room. "What's for dinner?"

"Well, Master Wayne insisted that I am not to let you have anything to bland, assuming you have been eating that for far too long. So, I prepared a filet mignon." He said with no emotion. After years, I still couldn't tell if Batman had learned that trick from him or if he had learned it from the Batman.

"Fancy." I commented, watching him pull a hunk of meat from the refrigerator and tossed it on a wood cutting board next to me. "Can I ask you a question? Off the record?"

He turned his back to me and rummaged in the spice cabinet, pulling random rubs and seasonings out, not looking up.

"Of course." He set them down and then walked over to a different corner of the kitchen to grab a steak knife.

"How was Bruce? I mean, I can guess how he acted when I was gone. But this whole family looks different. Tim looks…darker." I wanted to ask about Jason, but I didn't think he'd have any knowledge of that. Jason was never one to come to any member of the family, especially for some kind of emotional trouble.

He sighed, weighing his words carefully.

"Master Wayne is Master Wayne, you must understand that by now." He went about slicing the meat into five equal pieces. "Master Timothy has had some difficulties, though I believe he will fare better now that you are here."

"Problems?" Jason came up behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist, a comforting gesture, I hated being the only one not knowing what was going on. Alfred looked up to Jason, a warning glance. Jason nodded and the Alfred looked back to me.

"Master Timothy was shot, several times by the Joker, only to live. He being alive right now is only a testament to his strength." He paused, lips stretched into a thin line on his tired face. "In many ways the act was like what happened to Miss Gordon. But then again, not. The Joker may have failed in killing you, but he attacked you in safe places, your homes. Master Timothy was alone, he was unarmed an unprotected. I'm afraid we may never know the extent of what physical and mental torture he put that boy through, before the Joker assumed he would be left for dead."

Jason tightened his grip on my waist and I shivered, not from the cold. It was an involuntary shiver, coursing through my nerves. It tore from the very feeling of disgust and hatred that I harbored for the Joker. He killed my brother and tortured another, for what? It was all too much.

"You should talk to him." Alfred looked back down to the steak, tossing random spices on the raw hunks. Suddenly, I wasn't in any mood to eat, especially some bloody piece of meat. "He spoke of you."

"What did you do while I was gone?" I looked back up to Jason. His eyes wandered off, back into that dark place.

"I visited you every day in the beginning." He began. "I came here, attempting to mend my relationship with this family."

Alfred nodded absentmindedly, tossing the spices into the cabinet and reading the label on another.

"I not hated, I guess. But I'm not exactly royalty." He paused. "They only trust me because they saw that I really cared about you."

"Has there been any trouble from the Joker?" I looked back to him and his eyebrows knitted together.

"No, he was in Arkham for breaking into Wayne Manor and shooting a man. He had some crazy raving about Bruce Wayne being Batman." He smiled a bitter smile.

"Wow. He actually told people?" I tilted my head to the side and walked with him to the dining room away from the smells in the kitchen.

"Not many, and no one believed him anyway. Bruce upped the parties and social events for a few months after while having me parade around as Batman in public." He chuckled. "I wanted to help out after all of the pain."

"Well that must have been fun." I ignored the words left unspoken. He thought he caused all of it. But that was debate for a different time. "Where was Tim during all this?"

His gaze clouded. "He wasn't around much in the first few months, mentally anyway. He was ghostly pale, really quiet. I always saw him when I came back to the Batcave from my runs. Bruce would be out, being social, God knows it killed him. But yea, I'd come drive into the cave and he'd be sitting in the cave, not moving. He wouldn't say anything or even acknowledge my presence. It's like he was stuck in that room with the Joker reliving whatever he did to him."

"What do you think happened?" I asked as he led me back to the table.

"I don't know. But it's bad enough. I was never like that when Joker took his swings at me." He pulled out a chair for me and I promptly sat down, head of the table. "Whatever he did to that kid, it wrecked him, and he was tougher than me. It must have been brutal."

I nodded as he sat down to my right. Damian sauntered in, looking like the demonic teenager I always knew he'd turn out to be. He was stoic now, like his father. The only emotion I saw was when I had woken up at his side.

Bruce walked in fast, taking the seat across from me, attempting to smile as he did so. He failed miserably, one of these days he would forget how to do it altogether.

Tim walked in, glancing my way before sitting to my left, eyes down. I could see it all now, how broken he was. I needed to talk to him, I needed to help him. His eyes darted around the table again as Alfred walked in with the plates. My gaze stay fixed on him as I watched him fiddle with his fingers under the table.

He looked up, directly at me. I had never seen blue eyes so cold before. They were icy, fearful. He made no move to hide it from me, the Joker had broken his soul.

* * *

**Author's Note  
**

**Special thanks to danvseveryone for helping me out with this chapter and tying Tim into it. Please review! Thank you!  
**


	12. The Truth

If anyone had a chance to connect with Tim, it was Jason. Logically, he was the only person who would have be able to even understand what he had gone through in the first place. Jason is never one to talk about his feelings much, but after seeing how bad Tim was, I persuaded him. I figured Tim could use a friend at a time like this, and he obviously needed to talk to someone.

It's crazy that after all the time in my coma, I was still able to hang, unnoticed from a rafter in one of the guest rooms in the mansion. I was rather proud of the fact that I hadn't lost that particular skill.

It was late in the evening, after dinner. I told Jason to talk to Tim, and for some reason he listened to me. I would have liked to believe that he wanted to help his family.

"You know I know what you are going through." Tim sat on the bed, legs crossed as he fiddled with his fingers. "The Joker works his way into people's heads. I know what that feels like."

"I know you do, Todd." He sighed. "I know you do." He said softer.

"Can you tell me what happened?" He sat in a chair, opposite from the bed, hands clasped in front of him. "Did he torture you?"

He didn't say anything.

"Tim, you can tell me. I know that you are suffering. I know that it hurts. And, I know I'm probably the last person that you would want to talk to about this, but you know that I do care."

"I know." He said softly.

"Tell me."

"It wasn't like that. He didn't torture me. He didn't do anything." His tone was almost defensive.

"Two men burst into my apartment and I tried to fight them off. They were trained, like, Lady Shiva trained. They pinned me down and he just waltzed in…" He paused.

"'Hold him up boys.' He told the men. They hoisted me up to my knees and he bent down. 'You were never my queen.' He said and then got back up.

"I was confused, it wasn't his play, to be coming in like this. But of course, I had no idea that he knew who I was or anything like that.

"'You see.' The Joker continued. 'The queen is the most powerful piece in the chess board, Drake. Once she is compromised, the game is lost. You were never my queen.'

"'Who was you queen?' I spit up to him, trying not to show him that I was curious.

"'Grayson, of course. He is the one to make the sacrifice for his family.' He turned back to me, demented smile on his face. 'But I suppose you'll do.'

"'You see, I am going to launch an attack on the Wayne family. But I will cease, in exchange for a life. A life for a family. A game of sacrifice. One will die and the others will live.' He looked down to me. 'So who will die?'

"My mind finally started to grasp his plan, he wanted me to play. He wanted me to be the one who died. He wanted me to be the one to sacrifice it all.

"'Which member of the family loves the family the most? I do love this game, don't you? It seems so fitting, since you all are so self-sacrificing anyway.' He laughed.

"'I'll do it' I told him, letting him look down at me. 'I'll die for them.'

"He seemed surprised, eyes boring little holes in my skull. I didn't think that he doubted that I loved this family. But he doubted that I would give up. He thought I would find a way out, a loophole. But, be damn sure I was searching for every way I could.

"'So, just so the rules are clear.' I looked back up to him. 'You can't kill them.'

"'Clear as day sonny boy! I will show up at the Manor, shoot off a few rounds, let them arrest me and they will wallow in the grief of losing you.' He smiled and sat cross-legged in front of me as his goons held me up. 'You are willing to die for your family? How noble! Although, I was hoping to stick a few bullets in them first. But you will have to do.'

"I didn't say anything else, I didn't need to. I knew that even if I couldn't think of a way out of the situation I had gotten myself into, I would die for the people I loved most. I would die for the family that loved me.

"I didn't feel it when he shot me. I heard it, and I heard the sound of him laughing like a maniac. I felt myself falling on the floor and then I smelled blood. I smelled the metallic, tangy taste, and I knew that I was a goner. But somehow…you found me."

His head slumped forward as he finished his story. Jason's jaw fell slack, not what he was expecting from the Joker. It was as if the whole attack, the whole five years were a lie.

"Tim. You made a deal, with the Joker." Jason said, not comprehending. "To kill yourself…so that the family wouldn't get hurt?"

He nodded.

"But you saved me." He said sadly. "You shouldn't have."

"But Tim, he shot Grayson, he knew you didn't die." Jason looked back up to him.

"It didn't work. He heard Dick telling me to run. He knew I lived. I kept hearing in my head him telling me _one for one_." He shook. "I had to Jason, I had to do it. I knew no one would forgive me. He was my brother."

"Tim…what? What are you talking about." Tim shook his head and looked back down.

"You are a smart man. You have read up on Grayson's condition." His voice cracked.

"Sections of the brain were cut off when he died, losing the cognitive functions. He had to repair the connections to the brain stem." Jason replied, monotonous, like a robot. Whatever it was Tim was apologizing for, Jason knew what it was.

"Exactly." Tim looked back up. "Sections, not all of it. You know that doesn't happen when people get shot and die for a minute."

"Tim." He paused. "What did you do?"

"I had to."

* * *

**Author's Note  
**

**The idea for the flashback is credited to CA Alcantar. And sorry if this chapter is a bit confusing, I will be explaining in the next few chapters what it all means. And I know many of you have been waiting patiently for some fluffy Jay/Dick drabble, well the next chapter will have that I swear! Please review and follow!  
**


	13. The Fire

"You knew all this time, don't bullshit me Jason." I slammed the door behind me with force. He put a shaky hand down on the kitchen counter, back facing me. "You lied to me."

"I knew that the bullets didn't put you in the coma. But I didn't think Tim…had it in him." He slumped down, running his other hand through his hair.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked, fuming. "My brother put me in a goddamn coma! Because what? The Joker said one of us had to die? So Tim picked logically and picked me?"

"No. No, he was right." His eyes stared down, blankly. "He is smart. He wouldn't have killed you. He wanted to put you in a coma, so that is what he did. He probably didn't think it would last more than six months at best, which is why he's so…guilty and screwed up now."

"How do you comprehend this?" I threw my hand up and walked away from him, into his bedroom. "My own brother put me in a coma. Explain it, because clearly, I'm not rationalizing it right."

"The Joker would have come back unless he thought one of us was gone. So Tim made it look like you were gone. It's not like the Joker would have seen a big difference between being in a coma and dead. I guess Tim didn't count on you dying and then being revived, adding to the stress of the head injury." He leaned in the doorway, his muscular frame taking up most of the space.

"What did he even do to me?" He cringed, eyes drifting over my head.

"He hit you with something."

"This is insane." I paused. "Why aren't you mad about this?"

"Because it makes sense, I understand why he did it. It doesn't mean I like it." His blue eyes shifted over me again, checking me, making sure that I was okay, alive.

I shifted my gaze and got up, turning from him. I pulled the tie from my neck angrily and tossed it to a nearby chair. I could feel him, watching. It was protective, unnerving.

"Dick…"He finally spoke. "I know you haven't said much to me. I told you that I loved you before we left for dinner. I just wanted to know…was that a mistake?"

I hesitated a moment too long.

"I see." I could hear him walk out, holding it all in. Truth be told, I didn't know anymore, especially now. Jason made me feel loved, truly. I cared for him. But there would always be that fiber of myself that knew that it wouldn't be able to work out. Nothing perfect ever does.

He crumbled when I was gone. And what would he do next time? What would I do? This whole…thing we had made us utterly co-dependent on each other. We were doomed lovers, bound by fate to never be happy, and I knew it in my soul.

Yet…there was something more. I wanted him, I craved him. I heard his voice when I slept, his face was the last thing I saw before I died. Everything about him reminded me of a home and a love that I never had. It was all so different. I believed that the love I had for him brought me back, it brought me back for him.

"Jason." I called after him, wandering into the kitchen. He sat, drinking a glass of some brown liquid. I could only assume it was bourbon or whiskey, a very Jason-esque thing to drink. I struggled for the words as he looked up at me with hard eyes.

"Do you remember when we were kids?" I blurted, sitting next to him. "And Bruce went out on patrol when you were sick and I came over? You were so mad at me, so bratty, but we ended up having a really fun time? I showed you the secret passage above the kitchen that led to the attic?"

"Huh. Yea I remember that. I had the flu and he refused to let me go, and you came over to babysit, or so it seemed. I didn't like you very much then. You turned out to not be so bad." He took a sip of the drink, eyes twinkling off into the darkness.

"I loved you then. Not in this way that I do now, but I have always loved you Jason, you have always been a brother to me." I paused, positive I was going in the wrong direction. "But ever since you broke into my apartment it's been different. I've never loved anyone in the way that I love you, and it scares me."

"Why?" He looked back up to me, eyes locked on mine. And I found myself struggling for the words again.

"What if something happens to me again?" Before the words left my mouth he was up. He was in front of me, face inches from mine.

"Don't say that." He growled, "I won't let it happen."

"Jason, you can't control things like that! What if there is a fight, or the Joker gets ou-" He cut me off.

"No! I won't let anyone hurt you again. I blame myself fully for what happened to you, it was my fault. But I will not, ever, let something like that happen to you again." His hands held my jaw firmly in place, his gaze burning.

"Jason, what if-" He shut me up. Everyone was forever telling me I talk to much anyway.

His lips came down on mine, burning hot. I once compared Jason to a wild fire, and it was entirely accurate. Our breaths mixed together in a ragged harmony as we came up for air. I worked my fingers into his hair and he wrapped a strong hand on my lower back. Our tongues lingered together as he bit my lip. I gasped in surprise.

His other hand clutched my back as he kissed my neck and collarbones. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back. He bent me down, just leaning over me, on the table. I looked into those blue-burning eyes before I pulled him down to kiss me again, my legs wrapped around his waist.

He lifted me off the counter and held me up and he walked to the bedroom. One hand supported my back as I kissed him, holding his face with mine. I felt myself being rammed up against a wall as I let out a hitched breath. Our foreheads came together as we let out deep breaths. He worked my jacket off and kissed me, letting me just stand there in wonder.

He only popped a few buttons off my shirt before I pushed him roughly back on the bed. He stumbled back and looked at me with shock, then a smile as he fell. I tugged the shirt the rest of the way off as I climbed over him, looking at him.

"Wait." He said.

"No." I kissed him roughly.

"Dick, stop." He looked up to me as I hovered over him, "Are you ready for this?"

I let out a grunt as I worked his shirt off. I threw it to the pile of clothing on the floor. He flipped me over and smiled, happy to be back in charge. His eyes looked me over again, lingering. I wrapped my fingers back in his hair.

His thumb traced over the scar on my chest, I couldn't feel it. His gaze locked on it for a few moments. He bent down and kissed it, and that time, I felt fire.


	14. Escape

The days blurred together. I left to patrol, it got me back into the old routine. The city was quiet, it seemed. Jason never came with me. He was much different than I was. His time as Batman made him more of the anti-hero. He resented the "knight" role that Bruce and I took up. In a way, he always had.

Anyway, nights I was on my own patrolling the city. I sometimes ran into Bruce and Damian, but we never had much time to sit and chat. It was nice, the silence. It gave me time to think about everything that had happened.

It was a warm night when I was just leaving for patrol. Jason had gone out. I didn't question it. He had his own methods for taking down drug rings and things of that nature. I hadn't asked him about it since waking from the coma. I assumed that he would be killing them. It would just be something to argue about.

I hopped from the room above a few abandoned warehouses below. I followed a man in a dirty trench coat, walking between the two buildings. He seemed to be up to no good as he cautiously looked behind him. I followed him for a few blocks until he walked into an old theater. Mob bosses and gangsters followed him in, shaking hands as if greating old friends.

"Sargent Fredrickson." I heard a familiar voice behind me. "He is undercover."

"Does Bruce let you out in your condition?" I spat at Tim, making sure he knew that I was angry. He may have somehow put Jason's mind at ease, but not mine. He still had a lot of explaining to do.

"If he did, do you think I'd listen?" He stepped out of the shadows, revealing his cowl, so much like Bruce's. "I'm not that damaged."

"It would help your case if you were." I again noticed how small he was. Even if I was lacking body strength, he was just sickly. He was still tall, still had muscle, but he hunched over. He looked scared as I saw his icy blue eyes, they sent a shudder through me before I realized that he was my brother and I should have nothing to fear.

"I know you're mad." He sad putting both hands up. "And you have every right to be."

"Of course I do! Tim what were you thinking?" I shouted at him.

"I had to Dick! Don't you see?" He pleaded with me. "I didn't think it would last that long and I knew that the Joker would go. I knew he would take it as a surrender."

"God Tim, I can't believe what I'm hearing." I said, looking down at him. He didn't even look like the same person I knew those years ago. He seemed so defeated and defenseless.

"I knew what I was doing Dick, he said one for one." He said again.

"So you sacrificed me!"

"No! I knew nothing would happen to you!"

I shook my head, he was wrong. He was imbalanced. Something was severely wrong in his brain to think that I would be okay with this. I paused and let his comment hang in the night air.

"Clearly you didn't." I said, looking him in the eyes. I saw regret and sadness cross into his eyes. He was sorry, I could see. He was tortured and driven mad by this 'one for one' thing. He may have stabbed me in the back, but he was still my brother, and I had to help him.

I jumped from the roof and continued on, leaving him to return to the manor. He wasn't safe enough out, he wasn't healthy enough. He should have been home. It was the guilt that drove him like this now. The guilt of thinking that I would never wake up. He was torturing himself all that time and no one noticed it, or bothered to find out. He was burdened with his guilt.

On returning home, I found Jason in front of the television. He seemed not interested as he smiled at me.

"What are you watching?" I asked, walking to the bedroom to change into my civvies.

"Some drama show. I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention", he said before flipping through the channels. He landed on a news station and then met me in the kitchen. "You're home early."

"Nothing new in the city. I guess you didn't find your gang down at the docks?" I handed him a pop tart from the cabinet as I took the other one in the bag.

"Yea."

"I ran into Tim."

"Is he still conscious?" He threw me a warning look over his shoulder as he walked to the other side of the counter.

"Not by any fault of my own." I smiled. "We need to help that kid."

"Does that sound like forgiveness?" He smiled at me, taking a bite of his pop tart.

"I won't ever forgive him, Jason." I sighed. "But he really needs help, I don't know what to do though."

"I am just handed this breaking news from Arkham Asylum, where it appears that the lunatic named 'the Joker' has escaped again." The television said softly. Jason skid to it and knelt down in front of the set, where a blonde woman was reading from a paper in front of her. "We remind all viewers to remain indoors and lock their windows and doors as this man is dangerous and presumed armed."

I dropped the pop tart and ran into the bedroom. I heard Jason flying behind me. He ran directly into the doorframe and I would have laughed, had it been another time. I threw off my shirt and grabbed my costume from the closet. It was practically still warm.

"Are you insane?!" He yelled at me. "You can't go out there!"

"He is going after Tim." I answered, yanking off my pants. "I have to stop him."

* * *

**Author's Note:  
****So I am using the pre-new 52 Tim costume here, just a warning in case I get any questions. Please review, it makes me very happy! And happy holidays to everyone! **


	15. One for One

I knew that I had to save him. I had to, he was my brother. Jason clung to me on the back of the motorcycle as we sped through the streets of Gotham in the darkness. The cold cut through us with wind.

"The manor, turn left." I heard Jason say through gritted teeth. He didn't want to go after Tim. I wasn't strong enough in his eyes. Besides, in the end, this was Tim and Jokers' fight. It was between them.

Still, he was my responsibility.

The manor was dark; Bruce and Damian were out still. Alfred was hopefully unaware of what the Joker was planning. He would get caught in the crossfire.

He let us in, unaware of anything amiss. The manor was a big place, if he had been in the kitchen, he wouldn't have been able to hear a scream from Tim's room.

"Yes I heard that the Joker had escaped. I radioed Master Wayne already." He said opening the door.

"Dick seems to think that he is after Tim." Jason said as we walked in.

"Why would he think that?" Alfred shot me a look. We hadn't told anyone in the family about what we had found out, it would only complicate things.

"No reason." I yelled to them as I ran up to Tim's room. Opening the door, I was greeted with the muzzle of a gun trained on my forehead.

"Now look who is up and walking!" I heard the demonic voice of the Joker again from inside. "I was just having a little chat with Timmy here, it seems he went back on our deal. It's seems he wanted to trick me along! Now we can't have that."

"Joker, I'm not the one you want." I said putting my hands up slowly. "Just put it down."

"You know what? You're right! You are not my queen." The muzzle was removed and I could see into the room. I remembered what Tim had told Jason. I had been Joker's original queen, the original sacrifice.

Joker was standing in the center of the room in front of Tim who was on his knees being held up by two of Joker's goons. His face was bloody. He had been beaten, but he would make it.

"Although Grayson, it is a bit interesting. Tim tried to sacrifice himself for you. Then he ended up living, and sacrificing you." He smiled at me, tucking the revolver under one of his arms. "Or did he really know what he was doing at he put you out to fool me?"

"Tim, I'm going to get you out." I looked at him. I heard Jason come up behind me. Three of us against three of them, the odds were good.

"Dick- Oh my god." He came to my side, looking in at the sight. I put my arm up, he was a loose cannon around the Joker.

"Well look who showed up! Another Robin who just refuses to be put down. What is it with you guys?" He laughed and Jason charged. Joker was relying on it.

"No!" Tim and I screamed at the same time, pulling Jason back. He didn't see the revolver under Joker's arm. Joker smiled, I could see the demented grin stretch across his face.

I heard the shot before I felt it again. Then I realized that I was not hit. I had not been the target this time. Jason staggered back, buckling to his knees before me.

"Oh well. Maybe I should just play chance." He walked to me. I crouched down to Jason. His eyes were already clouding over, looking through me. "Let fate decide."

He hauled me up and punched him in the face before he had the time to react. I felt the bones crunch beneath my hand and my god, it was satisfying. He let me go and I pummeled him down until the two goons pulled me back, letting Tim crawl to Jason, was already on his back.

"You monster." I spit at him. He covered his nose, which was dripping. It was a great sight. I committed it to memory. I would keep his beaten face with me because God knows when I'd get a chance to do it again. He stumbled up, picking up the gun on the floor.

"That's what I'll do." He continued, unfazed by the broken bones. His voice was muffled until he pulled his hand away and smiled again. It was ghastly, bloody and broken. "I'll let fate decide."

The next shot hit Tim, who was trying to make a tourniquet for Jason, bleeding on the floor. It was horrifying. It hit his back and he let out a brutal yell before hunching over and casting me a glace.

"Tim!" I scampered to him and Jason. Jason was getting paler, his breathing shallower. The blood was already pooling around them, soaking my clothes. "Jason."

Jason lost consciousness, for the better. The less energy he exerted, the less blood he lost. Tim however, was making choking noises. He hiccupped and blood seeped to spill on his cheek. He looked awful.

"Dick." He said, trying to focus on my face. "I'm sorry."

"Shh." I said, pushing his hair back and resting him on his back next to Jason. "It's okay, I forgive you… I forgive you."

"No really…"He sputtered. "I didn't know it would hurt you so bad, I just wanted to take the place. One for one. I wanted to save you guys. Please Dick, I thought that he would stop, that we wouldn't come back if he thought you were dead. You have to…understand. I was wrong. I am sorry…please Dick, I didn't mean…for any of…this."

He seemed to smile before slipping under as well. His breathing slowed. Looking up, I realized they were both going to die. I had to do something. I used the rest of my strength jumping on him and wrestling him to the ground. It was a last ditch effort, his goons pulled me off without much effort. I struggled against them both, but without my muscle strength I couldn't do much.

"I like this!" He said as they pulled my arms out to either side. "All three of us! Though, it does feel like it's missing a little something without the Batman. Perhaps I'll take a shot at the other little one he has running around. That ought to anger him! Don't you think?"

"You are a monster." I snarled. "You lay a finger on Damian and I will-"

"Do what? Kill me?" He laughed. "Oh that's funny! Besides you won't get the chance. Unless of course fate decides you will."

I said nothing. He was coming to the end and I could tell where it was going. It needed to be quick. Bruce would be here soon, if not already and the sooner Joker shot me, the sooner Bruce would be able to help us.

"Anyway…" He shook his hand and smiled another bloody smile again. "Arrivederci, as the Italians say."

With that, he shot me. I felt myself being propelled back onto the floor across from Jason. I didn't look down. I didn't want to see my body with more bullet holes. I would manage, my focus was on them. I could see Jason's chest rise and fall. He would live. I would make sure. Tim lay beside him, chest unmoving.

No.

No.

It wasn't possible.

My vision clouded and my eyelids drooped again. I forced myself to stay conscious. I kept my eyes trained on Tim, lying beside Jason. His eyes were open staring at the ceiling. His hair was pushed back the way I left it. He still had that small smile. My little brother. It was my job to protect him.

And with that parting thought, I slipped under.

* * *

**Author's Note: **

**Please review and favorite everyone! This one was hard to write and I love encouragement. Anyway, there is only one more chapter left, so thanks for hanging in there, those who stuck with it 'till the end.  
**


	16. The End

I awoke in a daze. Alfred was above me. He hovered, blocking out the light. The memories flooded back and before I could stop myself, I launched up.

"Alfred! Tim, where is Tim?" I stuttered. He coaxed me back down.

"You have only been sleeping for a few hours Master Dick. You need time to rest. The bullet grazed your side, nothing major." I worked myself up.

"No Alfred. I need to see Tim." Alfred tried to push me back down when Bruce walked into sight. "Bruce! Where is Tim? Is he okay?"

I should have noticed that darkened features, the angry look in his black eyes. He was defeated, lost. He looked the way he had when we had lost Jason. He said nothing to me, only walked away from my view.

"Master Dick, please, you need rest." Alfred tried to push me back down, but I would not move. I saw the two cots beside me. Pushing Alfred away, I stumbled to them in a daze.

First, I saw Jason. His face was pale, like porcelain. He was hooked up to a machine monitoring his heart rate. He also had two IV's hooked into each arm. I rested a shaky hand on his cheek. He was cold, but alive. He would live in the more than capable hands of Alfred and Bruce.

I turned to the second cot and my fears were confirmed. He laid there, with nothing attached to him. His eyes were closed, the same deathly smile on his face. His face was clean, but swollen. Someone had washed the blood off. There was also a white sheet placed carefully over the bullet wounds. He looked peaceful. My mind wouldn't accept it.

"No." I muttered, walking closer to him. He stayed there, still as stone. I paused, lifting a hand to him. Bruce turned and looked at me. Studying my very reaction.

He said nothing. He didn't need to. He knew what I felt. He knew that I would believe that this was my fault. He knew I would believe it for the rest of my life.

"No." I said again, resting my palm on his cheek like I had done with Jason. He was my brother, my responsibility. It was my doing. If I had said something, or done anything differently. My brother would not be lying in front of me dead. "Tim."

My hand shook when I pulled it away. It was my little brother. He was the most kind, generous person I'd known. He was more human than all of us. I should have said something, done something. I could have told him I forgave him. I could have gone to more lengths to understand what he did for this family. I could have stopped the Joker from taking his life away.

"Dick…" I heard a voice from behind me. I turned from his body, tears welling in my eyes. Jason looked up at me. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I felt the tears spill over. I knelt down to him as he reached for my hand. He was cold, but I gripped it tightly. "You're going to be okay Jason."

"I know." He smiled, noticing my tears. "Where is Tim?"

My lip quivered, and I felt my body shaking. I couldn't lose it now, not in front of Bruce and Jason.

"He…" I muttered, turning to look behind me. "Tim…"

"He didn't make it." Jason looked up at me, then to the bed behind me. "What happened Dick?"

"The Joker shot him." I muttered. "While he was trying to help you. He died helping us…even in the end."

"I remember him looking down at me, but I faded out." He muttered, attempting to get up.

"No, you need to stay." I lightly set him back down, despite his protesting. "It's just you and me now, I can't have you going off now."

The tears were not letting up, and Jason was still hard as stone. I turned from him again, looking at Tim. He still looked so peaceful, just like he was sleeping. Jason let go of my hand and reached for Tim. His fingers brushed past my legs and touched Tim's cold shoulder.

"He was next to you. You both looked so cold, so…dead." I said, looking at the fact that Jason was reaching to Tim. The fact that Tim died helping Jason. They hated each other and Tim gave his life trying to save him. In the end, Tim got what he wanted, the die saving the family. Fate gave Tim what he wanted after all.

"He died, next to me?" He let his arm drop and looked back up at me. I could see his eyes shining, the closest they'd get to tears. I nodded. "I should have been awake. I should have been there."

Bruce looked to Jason from beside Tim, his eyes like black beads. He was used to this. Or, at least, it looked like he was used to this. He got up and waved to Alfred to leave us. Jason hardly noticed.

"I forgave him, when he was dying. He told me he was sorry. I didn't know he was dying." I looked back to his body, hiding my face from Jason.

"You told me just yesterday you would never forgive him." He said quietly.

"I would have." My voice hitched. "He's my brother. I would have forgiven him. He would have to have known that."

"He did. He knew you loved him." It was silent as we watched over Tim's lifeless body, both willing him to wake up. He would pop back and tell us it was all a joke. We would go on with our lives like nothing happened.

"Oh God Jason." I muttered, letting my head fall into my hands. "It's all my fault."

"No Dick." He muttered, sitting up. "Don't ever think like that. It's not your fault. It never was. And you never know, maybe he'll come back just like I did."

I looked back up at Jason, wondering if I wanted him to come back like how he had. Tim didn't deserve the pain and the sadness. He deserved to live, but to live happily. It wasn't fair.

I said nothing. I curled up next to Jason, my back pressed against his chest, letting myself sob. It felt so natural, being close to him. But everything was wrong and yet Jason and I made it. We were still together through all of this hell. And maybe Tim would come back. Maybe he would come see me and I would tell him all the things that I hadn't said. I would forgive him a thousand times over and tell him that everything was my fault and I would never let anything like that happen ever again.

But we would have to wait.


End file.
